


Under the Weight of Living

by Hexiva



Series: HP AU [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Character Study, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 14:14:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14474430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexiva/pseuds/Hexiva
Summary: Charles Xavier, headmaster of Hogwarts, has a moment of doubt, and his former archenemy Erik Lehnsherr tries to comfort him.





	Under the Weight of Living

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the same universe as my other story, Remorse, but is more of a vignette than an actual sequel.

_It all crept up on you, in the night it got you_   
_And plagued your mind, it plagues your mind_   
_Every day it passes faster than the last did_   
_And you’ll be old, soon you’ll be old  
Do you like the person you’ve become?_

**Weight of Living, Pt. II, by Bastille**

 

The full moon shone down Hogwarts, outlining the grounds black and silver. A cool breeze whispered through the trees, and brushed against the face of the headmaster, overlooking the grounds from the top of the tallest tower. It was well past curfew, the students were all in bed - but Professor Xavier couldn’t sleep. He had come up here, as he often did, to think.

“Insomnia again, Charles?” drawled a voice from behind him, with a faint German accent. “This is becoming a bad habit.”

Xavier turned, without surprise, to see Erik Lehnsherr ascending the stairs and coming to stand next to him. Professor Lehnsherr was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, and Xavier’s closest friend. He was also, as only Xavier knew, once the Dark wizard Magnus - a shadowy tyrant who terrorized the world.

“How did you know I was up here?” Xavier asked, smiling weakly.

“I don’t need to be a Legilimens to recognize you have been troubled today.” Lehnsherr came to lean on the parapet next to Xavier. “You’re becoming predictable in your old age, you know . . . you always come here.”

“Do I?” Xavier said, ruefully. “Well, I suppose I’ve become complacent without anyone trying to kill me.” He shot a pointed look at Lehnsherr.

“If it would improve your mood,” Lehnsherr offered, gravely, “I could try to tip you over the side of the side of the tower. For old time’s sake.”

Xavier suppressed a laugh. “You shouldn’t make jokes like that, you know,” he said. “Someone might begin to suspect you.”

“I strongly suspect I am not the first teacher at this school to wish your demise,” Lehnsherr said cheerfully. Then he got a better look at Xavier’s face. “Charles - is that why you can’t sleep? Of all the people in this school, students and teachers, surely I am the one who has given you the least cause to worry for his safety - after all, you know as well as anyone that I am capable of defending myself.”

“Fearless as always, Erik . . .” Xavier said, shaking his head. “You would have made a good Gryffindor.”

Lehnsherr waved a hand. “Durmstrang didn’t bother with such juvenile categorizations, and to its credit. I have no idea why you persist in them.” He gestured to Xavier himself. “After all, look at you . . .” He reached out to pinch Xavier’s black and gold scarf between two fingers. “It’s always black and yellow with you, isn’t it? Not very Slytherin.”

“Inter-house unity is important,” Xavier said, stiffly. “Besides, I like black and yellow.”

“Perhaps,” Lehnsherr said, unconvinced. “Or perhaps you know how people perceive Slytherins and wish to be seen as a member of a less _threatening_ House.”

“You make me sound so manipulative,” Xavier protested, which was as close to a confession as he was likely to get.

“The whole business is ridiculous,” Lehnsherr said. “Whatever else may be said of Durmstrang, at least they do not allow their identities to be defined by an aging hat. You do not lack for bravery, or kindness, or intelligence. And yet the hat has decreed that you be defined, not by your kindness, but by your cunning and ambition! Something of a self-fulfilling prophecy, one might argue.”

Xavier cast Lehnsherr a fond, rueful glance. “Do you think I haven’t thought about all of this?” He shook his head. “Every Xavier for five generations back has been a Slytherin. But I never cared for my family, or they for me. We merely pretended. As a child - as a child, I thought I would be the one to break the pattern. Especially when I got on the train and met the most brilliant Muggleborn girl, who told me all about the virtues of Gryffindor and would become my best friend in school. My parents would never have approved of her. I tried to argue with the Sorting Hat, you know . . . I thought I had an iron-clad case that I should be a Hufflepuff.” He laughed at himself.

“I didn’t realize,” Lehnsherr said, quietly. “You have always been Slytherin’s strongest defender . . . I believed you were proud of it.”

“I am,” Xavier said, with a smile, “Now. There is much to be proud of in Slytherin. We need not be defined by our darkest moments. But when I was young, it was as if the Hat had sentenced me to become just like my parents - bigots trapped in the past and obsessed with Wizarding blood. It didn’t help when my step-brother was sorted into Gryffindor and was practically shunned by the family.”

“Then why do you perpetuate this system?” Lehnsherr asked, crossing his arms.

“Like Slytherin, like my family, it is not rotten to the core,” Xavier said. “It has merely been allowed to sink into the darkness.”

“And you’ve decided that you are the one who is destined to save it?” Lehnsherr snorted.

Xavier raised his eyebrows at Lehnsherr, faintly irritated. “And if I have?”

Lehnsherr shook his head. “Not everything that is broken can be repaired. Not every monster can be saved from himself.”

“Are we still talking about the House system?” Xavier asked, with a knowing glance at Lehnsherr.

“Were we ever?” Lehnsherr retorted, offhandedly.

Xavier laughed, and then went silent. After awhile, he said, abruptly, “A student asked about you today.”

Ah. Lehnsherr knew at once that this was what had deprived Xavier of sleep tonight. Keeping his voice casual, he said, “Well, after all, they do teach about ‘the Dark wizard Magnus’ in our History of Magic classes.”

“No - no, I mean she asked about _you,”_ Xavier said, frowning. “She wanted to know how it was that the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had come to learn so much about the Dark Arts. She seemed . . . suspicious. I told you it was your job to know such things.”

“Which student was it?” Lehnsherr asked.

“Kitty Pryde.”

“Of course it was. That girl is too smart for her own good,” Lehnsherr said, with amused approval.

“You’re not taking this seriously,” Xavier snapped. “If she were to go to her parents - or if she got her suspicions from someone who the Aurors would believe - ”

“She’s a teenager, Xavier, not some Dark wizard plotting against us,” Lehnsherr said, in the same tone he used to shut down unruly students. “You see schemes everywhere.”

“Erik - ” Xavier said, pained. Lehnsherr frowned down at him. Another man might have taken Xavier’s expression for irritation. But he knew Xavier well enough to see it for what it truly was.

“Charles,” he said, softly. “You don’t have to be afraid for me. You forget who I am.”

“How could I?” Xavier said, with a rueful laugh. “Erik, I - our position here, our life here, is so fragile. If you were found out - ” He cut himself off. “I have nightmares,” he confessed suddenly, “Of the dementors coming to take you away.”

Lehnsherr wasn’t sure what to say. He had never been good with words, not like Charles. He wanted to say that he would deserve it if they did; but he knew Charles wouldn’t accept that answer.

Finally, after a very long moment, he admitted, “I have nightmares like that too. I have had for a very long time.” He touched his forearm, where the Nazi death camp tattoo lay under his robes. “The world I grew up in is so distant to you all . . . But its scars have followed me into your world. There was a time that I dreamt, every night, that they would come for me and everyone I loved - as they did once before.” There was no need to say who ‘they’ were. Lehnsherr’s terror did not recognize names or organizations; it only knew that there was danger. “It was part of what drove me to the Dark Arts. The idea that I could, somehow, master Death - that I could find safety in power.” Lehnsherr shook his head. “It was a lie. There is no safety. There is no guarantee. The lesson I learned as a child was true: everything you love can be taken from you in a heartbeat, and there is no way you can protect them.”

“Safety . . .” Xavier’s hands tightened around the arms of his chair. “Safety, I’ve always believed, is found in other people. In companionship.”

“Then why not believe in our companionship?” Lehnsherr asked. “We both know that I am one of the most powerful wizards in European history - ”

“ - and humble, too - ” Xavier interjected.

Lehnsherr ignored this. “ - and you have been counted as my only equal. If there is safety to be found, then, it is between us.”

“Yes . . .” Xavier said, looking out over the grounds. His long, heavy brows were drawn up in a frown, giving the lie to his agreement. “I suppose you’re right.”

“If it was your own life you feared for, I would tell you that I would defend you to the last,” Lehnsherr said, softly. “But I cannot promise you that I will defend my own life to the last, because I have been down that route, and I lost everything - even my own soul - in that aim.”

“I wouldn’t - I would never ask you for that,” Xavier said, sharply. “Erik, you know that.”

“I do,” Lehnsherr agreed. “But what I am saying is that it is useless, and dangerous, to let fear consume you. Even if I had never fallen to the Dark Arts, the possibility would remain that I could be killed or arrested. It is easy to believe that the innocent are safe; but my family was innocent, and they died. Anyone could die; love is no protection, nor is innocence. But -” He shrugged. “But I am here. You are here. That is what we have. Why waste it on fear?”

Xavier sighed. “I wish it were as easy as you make it sound, my friend.”

“So do I,” Lehnsherr said. He let his hands rest on Xavier’s shoulders. “Come inside, Charles. It’s cold out here. And I do believe we both have classes to teach in the morning.”


End file.
